


Winter's Chill

by raiyana



Series: The Reader Inserts [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Tumblr: ImaginexHobbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 11:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: For Anon: Imagine on cold nights in erebor you put your cold hands and feet on thorins warm skin and he hates it." But instead of Thorin; Eomer? (I believe you guys said its okay to do that). :D With some fluff too, please?





	Winter's Chill

Winter in Rohan was cold. Having lived your whole life in the warm temperate climate of Dol Amroth, you had never seen snow before you came to Rohan to marry its young king. Éomer had ordered extra blankets made, of course, but once the cold really seeped into your body, extra blankets only made you feel more cold. Feeling the bed dip, hours after you had retired, with the weight of Éomer’s weary body, you saw your chance. With a sleepy murmur – he probably knew it was fake – you rolled over, wrapping yourself around him… and snuck your icy fingers underneath the linen shirt he slept in, feeling the siren call of his warm flesh. Éomer cursed, shuddering violently.

“Cold, min swéte?” he whispered, one hand trailing idly through your dark hair, so different from his own tawny locks. Wrapping that arm around your shoulders, he pulled you closer still, his other easily catching both your chilled appendages in his large grip. You nodded, realising how cold your nose was only when your face made contact with his warm chest. Éomer pulled the extra blanket back around your shoulders. “Perhaps I should show you how Rohirrim keep their Gondorian wives warm,” he mused, the hand that hand been playing with your hair travelling down the length of your spine to wrap hotly around your buttock. He squeezed. You murmured sleepily, already more than half asleep and Éomer chuckled. Bringing your hands to his face, he pressed a slightly bristly kiss to one of your knuckles. One of your legs wrapped around his, inserting your icy foot between Éomer’s thighs. “Béma’s balls!” he cursed, flinching away from you. Putting your now slightly warmer hands back on his chest, he grasped your poor foot, carefully moving it away from its new home. You frowned and murmured a protest, but sighed happily when he began rubbing the heat back into your frozen toes. “My little Ice-Queen,” he laughed, pinching your arse. You swatted ineffectually at him, which only made him laugh and kiss your hair. When your foot was beginning to feel less like a block of ice, he rolled you onto your back, snuggling his head against your breasts and covering as much of your body with his own as he could while still allowing you space to breathe.

 

In the morning, you woke to the tickling feeling of Éomer’s beard scratching against your flesh. His slow even breaths told you he was still asleep, and you felt almost too warm with both him and the added blankets to warm you. Except for one foot, which had somehow escaped the cocoon of King and blankets, you suddenly realised with a shiver. A wicked idea crossed your mind. Drawing the cold foot underneath the blankets would have been more than enough to warm it, you knew, but instead you twisted lightly, touching the cold flesh to Éomer’s thigh once more.

“I believe you promised to show me how Rohirrim keep their Gondorian wives warm,” you whispered cheekily when he jolted awake with another loud expletive. Éomer’s booming laugh filled your bedroom before he set to his task with determination. You did not feel the cold for the rest of the day.


End file.
